


Me Sirius, You Remus

by jennandblitz



Series: Just a Jeepster for Your Love [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Fluff, Humor, Inspired by Art, Inspired by Tarzan, It's Quite Ridiculous, M/M, POV Remus Lupin, Yeah that's right, it's a Tarzan AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-12
Updated: 2019-06-12
Packaged: 2020-05-02 00:48:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19188526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jennandblitz/pseuds/jennandblitz
Summary: Son of an intrepid jungle explorer, Remus Lupin gets a little lost in the aforementioned jungle and comes across a man there.





	Me Sirius, You Remus

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



> this (remarkably silly and yet adorable) ficlet came from a wonderful drawing by art-of-ame on tumblr, where we compared our love for her pointy-nosed Sirius to Disney Tarzan, and both [this adorable art](https://art-of-ame.tumblr.com/post/184019618643/after-freaking-out-on-my-main-account-about-disney) and the below fic happened!

Remus has to admit he was panicking a little.

He had only turned around to study the particular markings of that butterfly on that one branch, only for a second he was sure, but then the whole expedition had disappeared into the dense canopy. He isn’t stupid though, he had trekked through so many forests himself, in his father’s footsteps, following and finding wolf packs in the wilderness to study them.

So really, he should be fine.

But the forest is just getting thicker and thicker and the paths are getting harder and harder to follow and Remus really did prefer sitting in the comfort of the camp drawing or writing. With a sigh, he steps out from the undergrowth onto a fallen tree trunk, sure he had seen the same one the day before and hoping it might lead him back to camp.

It’s slippy with the recent rainfall though, and Remus’ feet slip from beneath him. Just when he thinks he’s about to fall straight into the undergrowth, a hand grasps at the back of his shirt and he’s pulled back onto the tree flat on his bottom.

Remus screams.

Oh God, it’s a person. It’s a real person. A _man_. Bare-chested, with a mane of long, midnight hair and grey eyes so bright they look silver. Remus scrambles back until he’s pressed against the uprooted end of the tree.

“Oh God, stay back—stay back, I—”

The man grabs his foot, intrigued by his shoe apparently, sniffing along it like a dog, then up the length of his calf. Remus shivers.

He’s sure he must keep babbling— _No, I mean, ah, get off, that’s_ ** _my_** _leg, that’s a notebook—oh_ ** _God_** _—_ but the man just keeps sniffing up his leg, over the knee of his shorts, as if he hasn’t heard a thing. But then his nose slides up the inseam of Remus’ shorts and he flushes _bright red_ and pushes the man away with a well-aimed foot to his sternum. Remus shifts uncomfortably, unable to look away from the man, who is now crouched at the other end of the tree trunk, tilting his head like a dog waiting for a command. He looks vaguely forlorn, too, like he’s been bopped on the nose with a newspaper.

“S—Sorry, sorry. That’s just… that’s not very proper, I mean- I—I—”

The man crawls over to him again, all sharp angles and sinew and muscle and moving like an animal, a predator. Remus presses himself back into the tree trunk, mouth agape.

“Tha—that’s close enough now, I—yes, _yes_ , hello. Just, st—stay— _ah!”_ Remus lifts a hand to push the man away, firmer now, like grabbing a dog by the scruff, but the man catches his arm. Remus gasps, staring into those pools of silver, reflected green of the forest. This close, his features are so finely chiselled, honed and pointed. The man lifts Remus’ hand, holding it there until he presses his own fingers against them.

 _We’re not that different_ , Remus thinks on a note of amazement, as he observes the man’s tanned fingers against his own paler, ink-stained ones. He wonders if the man thinks the same too, judging by the furrow of his brow. His fingers are callused, caked in mud from the forest floor. Remus feels the strength in them, but tenderness too.

Then the man presses closer, closer, and Remus can do nothing but watch, frozen, not wanting to scare him or anger him, as the man presses an ear to his chest. Remus’ heart is hammering out a desperate rhythm, but the man is so _warm_ against his chest. Remus lets his eyes shut for a moment, thinking that this is far better than any encounter with a wolf or wild dog, far more wondrous.

The man pulls back, a soft smile on his face, a tenderness to his features that Remus doesn’t expect. He grabs Remus’ face, fingers around his jaw, peeking into the golden curls at the nape of his neck, and pulls Remus bodily into his chest.

 _Oh God_. Remus puts a hand on the man’s arm to steady himself, feeling and hearing the strong heartbeat beneath all that muscle. Remus steels himself, pushes off to sit back on his heels. He hopes he isn’t as red as he feels. “Oh, yes. How—how lovely, what a—” he clears his throat— “Yes.”

The man chews one side of his lip, head tilted to the side, a dog again, listening to a command. After a moment he sits straight and brings a hand up to his chest. “Sirius.”

Remus frowns… the Dog Star. How would the wild man in the forest know anything about the stars? He opens his mouth to say something in response—maybe the man has just heard the word somewhere, had they talked about the stars in camp at all? - but then the man smiles and shakes his head.

He gestures to himself again, taps his chest with one hand and nods. “Sirius. Si-ri-us.”

“Oh— _oh._ ” Remus is resisting the urge to jump for joy at how wonderful this feels, to bridge this gap, to find someone out in the forest. He has a million questions, how did you get here, how did you grow up, where did you come from, are you with the wolves and the dogs? But instead he nods. “Hello Sirius, lovely to meet you.”

Sirius smiles and gestures to himself once more. “Sirius—” then to Remus— “lovely to meet you.”

“Oh! No, no no,” Remus ushers out on a laugh, noticing the way Sirius’ eyes light up at the sound. “No, no.” Remus kneels up, leaning closer. The man’s—Sirius’—breath hits his face. “I”m Remus.”

Sirius cocks his head, a frown flitting across his pointed features. “I’m—”

Remus’ heart blooms with warmth. He presses his fingers to Sirius’ chest. “Sirius—” then presses his fingers to his own chest— “Remus.”

Sirius’ fingertips touch the high point of his cheek. “Remus.”

“Exactly.”


End file.
